We decided to reverse the order of things this morning and had our breakfast as usual, planning to revert to an afternoon walk today instead of rushing out to the forest trails to beat the heat as we've been doing this past week. Oh yes, it would be warm, we knew this afternoon, but nothing like what it has been. We've been coping with highs of 31C, and today's high was 26C. Jackie and Jillie seemed expectant and almost disappointed that right after they had breakfast we wouldn't be trekking about in the ravine.

But they adjust readily, they always do. And though they have the choice to mosey about at their leisure in the backyard, they rarely choose to. They will venture out only when we do. They simply dislike going out on their own. When it isn't too hot out they're amenable to lying about on the deck, in the direct sun for brief periods of time, otherwise, no thank you.

There's always plenty to do about the house for us, though. My husband cut the grass in the backyard and the front of the house this morning. Couldn't have asked for a nicer day to do it; still cool and with a nice breeze, but to be sure there was a wide open ocean of blue and a searing sun gearing up for a heated afternoon atmosphere.

Still, decent enough out to entice me to get out in the garden and do a little snipping here and there. And general tidying up of spent flower heads. Above all, watering. We've got the gardens themselves to water and will irrigate only those areas where we've planted annuals, figuring the perennials will look after themselves. And they do, unless there's a drought.

It's the pots and urns that primarily require tending to. They dry out much faster than the garden soil does, with its mulch overtop to retain moisture. Over the years we've acquired quite a number of garden pots and urns, and we enjoy planting them yearly and admiring their output all summer long. They don't require very much care, but they do need to be watered.

Neglect is costly in terms of expiring plants, and nothing is much sadder than a plant that has been forgotten and left to fend for itself, to try to extract moisture from the air because it certainly cannot from the soil, given the degrees of separation from the plant roots dug into a pot seated on the hardscape of the garden, and the garden soil itself.

It felt good to feel the morning sun on me as I tackled the garden hose and watering wand on the bedding plants, and there was satisfaction in seeing the soil of the garden pots soaking up the torrent of life-giving water I directed at each one in the knowledge that this simple expedient makes all the difference between a desiccated plant and a fresh and beautiful flowering plant.

After our ramble on the forest trails with Jackie and Jillie later in the afternoon sheltered under the forest canopy from the searing sun, our little dogs took a critical turn through the gardens on an inspection tour before giving us their seal of approval.